


the forty-second night (I just want to say hello again)

by imaginedecember



Series: those new york and new jersey days [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Daddy Kink, Dom/sub, Hand Jobs, M/M, Name-Calling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2014-09-28
Packaged: 2018-02-19 03:18:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2372570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginedecember/pseuds/imaginedecember
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray looks back to those New York and New Jersey days when he had Michael, when neither of them questioned what they were doing because damn it, it was perfect.  But alas, Ray was finding himself more and more alone with the memory of Michael and not the real thing. He couldn't really help but to latch on to that one night - the forty-second night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the forty-second night (I just want to say hello again)

**Author's Note:**

> Title: The title in parentheses is from "My Sacrifice" by Creed. 
> 
> Explanation of tags and rating: This is rated mature for a reason. There is sexual content and, as mentioned in the tags, there is a hand job, Daddy kink and dom/sub themes. I would say that the dom/sub themes are lightly there but it may be more glaringly obvious for some more so than others. As for name calling, I was not sure if should have added it but one of them does call the other 'slut' just once. It was more so to cause a reaction and not to demean or harm. Either way, I figured some people wouldn't like that. Finally, there's swearing and I apologize if anything in this is harmful, offensive or triggering. And if there is anything I need to add in the tags, I will add it for you.

The forty-second time Michael came up to meet him, Ray had handed him his controller (a special offering of the strangest sort) and told him to put in a game. Any game. Didn’t even matter if it wasn’t multiplayer or something he could easily jump into. So, Michael ran with _Resident Evil 4_ , promising that afterwards he’ll show him a childhood classic of his (one that was cherished to this day). 

And that was maybe one of the very few times where Ray had sat back and just took in everything that was Michael Jones. 

Something loved by others, well, it was always good to keep a sharp eye on who they were as they did these things. And, boy, did Ray learn a lot. 

It was a long night spent watching Michael, laughing with him, raging with him and afterwards, Ray felt exhausted for a whole different reason. And when those sweet brown eyes turned on his, curls bouncing and cheeks nearly splitting, Ray knew that he was screwed. 

Michael Jones was just much too lovely for him to handle. 

He begged for the older male to stay.

_It’s too late to go on that train and certainly much too late to go walking around New York. And damn, what’s New Jersey like this late?_

__

__

Michael didn’t really have a big excuse or one that was real enough to be true. So, he nodded. 

Neither of them questioned it when Ray dragged his feet towards his bedroom and Michael followed his footsteps. 

Never of them questioned their attire - both of them in just tank tops and boxers. They swore it was hot in the apartment (but, really, it might have just been the flame that had been dancing between them).

Neither of them questioned it when Ray latched his fingers over the curve of Michael’s bicep and kept him close for a few seconds. Just long enough for them to begin to examine it. 

But they really didn’t say anything. 

Neither of them were good at words anyway. 

Michael found it hard to tear away from Ray so he gave a squeeze of his own right back. A little latch on to his hip. Pull him in, breathe a little harder and then begin to wonder. 

Michael was a bit lost in the haze. 

Ray slid his hands along his arm, laced his fingers together and then hooked them over the older male’s neck. For some reason, he felt like nuzzling into the perfect crook between neck and shoulder would be crossing a line. But none of the rest was. 

A soft giggle. 

Michael somehow found it funny that it took them this long to fall into step, to fall into line. Just like this. Puzzle pieces. Jiggy pieces even. And that got him laughing harder, imagining him with that pack and Ray squawking inside it.

And then some things just didn’t seem so innocent anymore. 

Because Ray was pressing close against his back. Feeling the curve of his spine. Letting his fingers dance along every bit of muscle and dip. It was like he was figuring out everything and Michael could see his fingers dancing across the controls. He felt like Ray was pulling him back, hitting that right button.

_And damn, baby, damn._

Ray’s hands were dangerous. Spitting fire. Casting out ice. Stabbing deep. Twisting hard. He felt like an achievement and damn, he really wanted Ray to grind him out. 

Michael couldn’t help it.

He gasped. 

Just enough to get the hairs on Ray’s arms to stand up. He had kept one hand around the older male’s neck while his other danced along his back. He felt that puff of air and wondered what a moan would feel like pressed into his skin. Trying to hold back. God, how much would it take to hear Michael scream and try to muffle it into his neck, his mouth?

Biting his bottom lip, he allowed himself to nuzzle into that perfect crook. Kiss the skin. Mold his lips there. Inject his scent into the freckled skin. 

Michael was arching himself backwards but Ray’s fingers were pressing against his jaw, keeping him at a certain angle but not tight enough to hurt. Just enough to command. But it certainly wasn’t the right angle. Michael wanted to push closer, press harder. Get a taste for Ray too.

“Please.”

Just a whisper. 

A breath. 

Ray smirked then rut his hips and licked his lips.

“Come on, baby.”

_I know you can do better then that._

__

__

Sweet and low. So pretty. Michael begged. Lips glistening, teeth grinding. 

“Please, Ray. Need you.”

_Call me worse. Shove me down. Hold me against the wall. Anything to get closer._

_Closer, come on, baby, please._

Ray began walking, the tip of his sock clad feet tapping against Michael’s ankle to get him moving forward. He felt the older male stumble. His thighs were practically quivering. Ray curled a hand against the plump skin, kneading his fingers there, leaving bruises and indents. Harder and harder just to hear a pant, a terribly covered moan. 

Michael had never seemed so delicious. 

Ray growled low in his chest, the sound seeming to rumble through Michael’s body, before the hands on his thighs moved to press hard against the middle of his spine. He stumbled forward, landing on to the bed. Ray kept his hand there, pushing gingerly until Michael took the hint. Crawling further up the sheets, Michael wrapped his arms around the pillows. He clutched the stitches tightly, loving the sound of them tearing beneath his grip as Ray settled on top of him. Just enough of a pressure to feel his hard cock against his ass but not enough to leave him gasping for air. He already couldn’t intake air. It was all saturated. All he could feel, hear, smell was Ray. And damn, he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Arching upwards, he tested Ray’s strength, his resolve. 

“You want this?”

A chuckle. 

Ray’s laughter was always choppy but this darker sound was like knives. Stabbing. He could only gasp as Ray rutted his cock against his ass. Hands smaller than his own grabbed his hands and held them down. 

Completely in his grasp. 

Michael didn’t know what to do. He wanted to grind down into the mattress but Ray’s cock felt too good against his ass. He was stuck in that middle ground. And Ray was lovingly watching him struggle. Like the fucking asshole he was.

Michael wanted to talk back. Let his words bite. Maybe he’d get somewhere with this. 

“You know I fucking want it, Ray. So fucking do something about it. I’m dying.”

Michael loved to fight, to be loud and dirty in any game he played. But Michael forgot how good Ray was at sniping. He had been in Ray’s sights for a long damn time. And it was about damn time Ray pulled the trigger.

The younger male let go of Michael’s hands, tapping against the skin there. Stay. A quiet command. Michael wanted to struggle but he was curious what his bite was gonna get him. Where was Ray gonna take this now? 

Suddenly, hands curled around his jaw, pulling his mouth open. Fingers tucked into his mouth, collecting the spit that was dripping down his chin. Fuck, his jaw was aching already. His dick throbbed as Ray bent near his ear. Pants against the sensitive skin. Shivers. Michael was frozen in Ray’s hold.

“I’m not gonna call you baby. Apparently that doesn’t do anything for you.” He flexed his fingers. Showing strength. Showing off. If he could, Michael would have curled his lips in a snarl. “My pretty slut, why did you disobey me, hm? Why fight?”

The harsh name was ripped from Ray’s throat. Like gravel, it crunched. It was hard to swallow but Michael found that tricking Ray would be quite the adventure. Bowing his head as much as he could with Ray’s tight hold on his jaw, he sunk into the mattress, somehow growing enough resolve to ignore the pulse of pre-cum that was pooling in the elastic of his boxers. 

As his head lowered, Ray’s grip began to slip. Michael took that chance. Arching up, he grinded hot against Ray’s cock. The younger man stuttered, just enough for Michael to get the upper hand. Pushing Ray off of him, he switched their positions. Crawling on to his hips, he pinned the other to the bed and smirked from above him. It felt all too good to take that power and wretch it from the younger man’s hands. It felt all too good to win for once. 

But, oh, Ray, his pretty Ray, knew how to play.

Pull the trigger.

And headshot. 

Hands cradled Michael’s jaw. Brown eyes swirled black stared into his own. 

“Now, that’s no way to talk to your Daddy now is it, Michael?”

One hand held tight on to his jaw while the other danced at the hem of his boxers. Snapping the elastic, Ray smirked as he watched Michael unfold in front of him. His arms swung loosely at his sides and his shoulders seemed to sag at the lack of tension. Relaxed. Nice little sub space. 

Michael may have forgotten that when he got drunk, he got a little too loose when it came to spilling secret thoughts. And, Ray, was just all too happy to be sober. He ate up the information Michael slurred and he tucked it away for that perfect moment. And, now, was that sweet moment where Ray declared victory.

With one hand on his jaw, Ray quirked his eyebrow at the older male shivering in his hold. When he got a single nod, he smiled. 

“That’s my baby,” he purred.

Michael practically ate the praise up. His eyes threatened to flutter shut as a hand swept through his curls and down to the base of his neck. Squeezing and kneading, tender and soft. He’d tell Ray later that he knew how he got when he was drunk and he knew what he said. He may have been planting the seeds from the beginning. Ray was never really as oblivious as he hoped he was in his attractions. And, hell, neither was Michael. But he’d tell Ray that later. For now, he’d succumb to whatever Ray was willing to give him. Because it was beautiful watching Ray get riled up but it was even better like this.

One hand kept the sweet pressure on his neck while the other snapped the elastic of his boxers. Bucking his hips up a bit, he whined. Ray was all smiles now as he slid the older male’s boxers down, just enough to let the tip of his leaking cock free. Pushing at Michael’s chest, he cooed in delight as he laid back on the bed. 

Ray kneeled in between his legs, his hands now holding his legs open. Michael hooked his ankles around his hips, loving the feel of being this close, of being this warm. 

“Daddy?” Michael whispered. His jaw ached trying to get the word out but he needed to get Ray going. Pull his boxers down all the way. Take his cock out and swallow it down. Do something. _Anything _.__

“Hush, sweetheart. Daddy’s got you.”

Now, Michael was for real sinking into the mattress. Ray couldn’t help but to kiss his blissful smile, to feel the curve of his pretty cupid bow’s. His hands trailed up his chest, underneath his shirt (and, really, how did that stay on this whole time?) and to where his heart was (or at least he assumed). Pressing into the skin, digging his nails in. Michael arched at the burning sensation, crooning underneath Ray’s touch. More tender, now. Less fighting. Ray had Michael pliant under his hands. Didn’t take much, sometimes. 

“You got me?”

Just to make sure.

It was mumbled so softly against the skin of his lips that Ray wondered if he could have read them with the tip of his tongue. 

“Always.”

It was a promise seared into his skin. 

Ray’s fingers gripped at his chin again and Michael let his mouth drop open. Damn. Ray could have came right then from seeing that. So sweet and pretty. And all for him. 

Kissing open mouthed soon turned into a battle of tongues. Pink muscle lapped at every crevice, tasting everything from shitty red bull to a distinct taste that left them begging for more. 

Michael couldn’t help but to wrap his arms around Ray’s neck. Tangling fingers into dark hair, he tugged and whimpered. Ray ground his cock into his thigh, both of them breaking the kiss as the tips of their cocks kissed messily. Beads of pre cum mixed together and Michael oddly wondered what that combination would taste like. That thought was in and then gone the next as Ray dug his fingers into his boxers. 

Michael always had an obsession with Ray’s fingers. He always loved to watch them speed across buttons, changing tactics and tapping just right to get the intention down. But, really, the way he tugged at his dick made Ray think that he should go into speed running. 

Using his pre-cum as lubricant, Ray kneaded at the veins that protruded from his cock. They caressed the head and squeezed gingerly and ran fast along the base. Michael was there and then gone in the next second. 

“Fuck, Daddy, please, god, can’t.” 

Words were rushing together as he was hurdled over the edge. His back bowed under the pressure of the heat coiling low in his gut. Fuck. Just this. Always this. 

“Is my baby gonna cum for me?”

How did Ray get that close to his ear?

Teeth latched on to the lobe, pulling and tugging and fuck, another sensitive spot. He could feel a smile against the crook between his neck and shoulder. Ray was moaning with him, their voices growing in fervor together as Michael came crashing down. 

He came hard in Ray’s fist, the pearly beads spilling through the cracks in his fingers and on to Michael’s thigh and hip. Growling, Ray lapped at the substance. Every surface. Michael’s thighs quivered as Ray sucked at his skin until every drop was gone.

Michael was still moaning, quivering, trembling, aching. He really wanted to deep throat Ray, to taste what he was leaking, to feel every twitch. But Ray was shushing him, kissing his cheeks and his lips. It was soothing being cradled by him. And damn it, he couldn’t move worth shit.

“Fuck, you wrecked me.”

Ray was laughing again except this time it was back to being choppy. A lovely, familiar sound. They had slipped out of that dom and sub space (even though the both of them sorely missed it - but they had all the time in the world to explore it). 

“Hey, Michael.” Ray’s voice was just as rough and his eyes were still dark. His dick was slowly retreating but he didn’t really care about that. He didn’t need to get off. They had all the time in the world for that. 

Michael tilted his head to the side, smiling when he saw that Ray had moved to rest beside him. Hands curled into his hair, soothing away any worries. Tender aftercare. 

“I love you, Michael.”

It would have been a revelation if they hadn’t already felt it before it was spoken. 

“I love you too, Ray.”

A quiet hum and Michael was allowing his eyes to flutter shut. As he slipped into sleep, Ray moved him around just enough to have him tucked into his side. Michael happily curled into his chest, fingernails latched on to his tank top and a smile permanently on his face.

And, honestly, neither of them could have ever questioned it.


End file.
